


The Princess and her Chat

by Snugglebuttkitten



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged up characters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Mush, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Marichat May, Mild Angst, Multi, SO MUCH FLUFF, University Student AU, sin - Freeform, the fluffiest of fluffs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-01 00:28:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14508507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snugglebuttkitten/pseuds/Snugglebuttkitten
Summary: A mini-series of MariChat drabbles that will all take place in the same timeline and will all be in chronological order... though they won't necessarily happen immediately after one another unless otherwise stated





	1. Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, guys, guys... GUESS WHO DECIDED TO JUMP ON THE MARICHAT MAY BANDWAGON!?!?!?!?!?!? That's right... this girl! I shouldn't be doing this. I have other stories that require updates. I was about to buckle down and WRITE an update for one of my other stories! And instead, I find myself writing MariChat fluff because I am total MariChat trash even if Lukanette is my new OTP. I hope you enjoy the crack humor and fluff that I am about to force down your throats cause we're in for the long haul xD

If you asked Marinette Dupain-Cheng how she had ended up in her current situation, she honestly couldn’t have given you a clear answer. The day had started out ordinarily enough. She had awoken at eight in the morning to her alarm blaring and her Kwami, Tikki, patting her cheek persistently to wake her up. Blindly, she had slapped on the bedside table until she finally managed to push the stupid alarm clock to the floor where it promptly started to screech even louder than before. With a groan, she had half fallen from the bed in her quest to shut the stupid thing up and by that point, she had been very much awake. That’s when she happened to glance at the calendar on the nearby wall and immediately let out a rather inhuman shriek because she had a  _ lecture _ in less than an hour and she wasn’t even  _ dressed!  _ The rest of the morning passed in a bit of a blur after that. Marinette had taken the fastest shower she’d ever taken in all twenty-three years that she had been alive, threw on a stylish blouse and skirt combo that hopefully wouldn’t get her laughed out of her History of Fashion 201 class, and darted out the door shoes and purse in hand to hail a cab.

Miraculously, she made it to her lecture with only seconds to spare and after that, things seemed to have been going well. The lecture, which was on the history of Silk, was a subject Marinette was supremely confident on since she had done her thesis paper on it the previous semester. So, while she did listen with half an ear, she spent most of the class working on her newest design which she hoped to present to the  _ Gabriel _  board of directors when she applied for an internship come winter. When the class ended, Marinette left with sketchpad in hand, making her way across the University campus to the Student Center Cafe where she would pick up a much needed latte before attending her final two classes of the day. It was a Tuesday, and Tuesdays meant she only had three classes. Most days, Marinette juggled six classes and a full day of work at a local Fashion House owned by a woman by the name of Lily LeClaire.  _ LeClaire _ Fashion House was nowhere near the size of  _ Gabriel _ but it was a respectable house nonetheless, especially in the world of woman’s fashion. It was an excellent stepping stone and she was thrilled to have the opportunity to work with such fashion geniuses, even if the workload was sometimes a bit overbearing at times.

That being said, Tuesdays were usually her days off and so Marinette fully intended on going home and relaxing once she finished her classes for the day. Unfortunately, that plan went tragically south when, halfway across the quad, an Akuma seemed to materialize out of nowhere. At twenty-three years old, Marinette was well accustomed to Akuma attacks by this point. After all, she had been fighting Akuma since she was thirteen. A whole decade of fighting crime and she was pretty much unflappable at this point. Just another day and another villain to de-evilize. The Akuma was a young woman who called herself ‘the Designer’. If Marinette had to guess, she was a fellow fashion student who had been rejected from a fashion house. It was a common occurrence around campus, unfortunately. After ten years of Akuma Attacks, there were certain precautions put in place to limit the chance of someone being akumatized. Yoga and Meditation classes were offered twenty-four seven for students who needed a breather from the stress and workload that came with being in a top tier University.

The school had hired several counselors to help students whenever they were in a rut, also free of charge, and in general, people tried to be careful about letting their emotions get the best of them because, at this point, they  _ knew  _ the consequences. Still, there were always people who slipped through the cracks and Hawkmoth had never been one to waste an opportunity. To be honest, if she didn’t know any better Marinette would wonder if her arch nemesis  _ knew  _ she was a fashion design student. After all, this was the third fashion student to be akumatized in the last month and at this point, it was beginning to feel a bit personal. The second she spotted the Designer, Marinette immediately scanned the quad for a spot to hide and transform. Unfortunately, there weren’t many options. The quad was a huge, grassy field surrounded by sidewalks on all four sides that led to and in between various buildings. Benches and trees littered the area but with the number of students currently staring slack-jawed at the Akuma, she could hardly hide behind a tree or bench and transform. It would compromise her secret identity.

That’s when the Akuma turned her gaze on Marinette. The Designer was a slender woman with a black pixie bob haircut and cunning blue eyes. She wore a skintight gray bodysuit with black, elbow length gloves and matching knee-high boots. From the few students who had already been struck by her powers, Marinette was able to determine that her powers involved turning people into living mannequins featuring various designs likely of her own creation. The problem was, the designs were so gaudy that Marinette couldn’t exactly fault whoever had turned her down. The outfits were too flashy, too Las Vegas-esque to make it into any reputable Fashion House.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You think you’re so much better than everyone else because you work for  _ LeClaire _ Fashion House,” the Designer spat, floating closer to the raven-haired young woman. Marinette backed away, although it was more out of self-preservation than genuine fear. So far, the Akuma seemed fairly harmless if her only power was turning people into human mannequins and Marinette was confident in her ability to dodge if need be. Besides, she was supremely confident that her partner Chat Noir would arrive soon. All she needed to do was stall the Designer, and what better way then to keep her talking?

“I got into  _ LeClaire _ because they believe I have talent. I don’t think I’m better than you; I just work hard at what I love,” she tried to reason. The Akuma scoffed, her pert nose wrinkling in disgust at the words.

“You got into  _ LeClaire _ because you’re best friends with the Agreste boy. Hard work had nothing to do with it,” she accused. Despite her best efforts to remain calm, Marinette could feel herself bristle at the accusation. It wasn’t the first time her integrity had been called into question. She knew if she asked, Adrien would have happily pulled some strings and gotten her into just about any Fashion House she wanted. They were that close, after a decade of friendship. She wasn’t the type of woman to take handouts, though. What she had, it was through her own skill, hard work, and dedication to the fashion industry.

“You’re wrong. I got into  _ LeClaire _ because my designs have actual class,” she spat, immediately regretting the words when the Akuma reeled back, hissing as if she had been stung. Anger flickered across the victim’s face and she held out her hand, fingers splayed and palm facing the raven-haired woman. It was the same stance she had taken when turning her other victims into human mannequins and the young woman braced herself to leap out of the way if necessary. Instead of shooting a beam of light at her target, however, the Designer’s hand seemed to glow, magic sparking around her fingertips. The light spread outward and began to solidify until the Akuma was holding a silver longsword in her hand. Marinette blinked, mouth agape as she took in the weapon that had appeared out of literal thin air. Apparently, the Designer’s ability wasn’t just creating outfits and freezing people. Apparently, she possessed powers of creation not unlike those that Marinette herself possessed as Ladybug.

“You will pay for your insolence with your  _ life _ , Dupain-Cheng,” the Akuma snarled, shifting the sword so that she expertly gripped the hilt before lunging at the dark-haired woman. Marinette fell backward, eyes wide in shock, and instinctively raised her arm to ward off the attack… but the blow never landed. Instead, the sharp clang of metal on metal sounded in her ears and when she opened her eyes, her knight in shining black leather was crouched before her, ears flat against his tousled blonde hair as he held off the attack with his baton. Chat Noir glanced over his shoulder at her, a lopsided grin gracing his face as he beamed down at her, cat-like eyes gleaming.

“Hello,  _ Purr-rincess. _ Fancy seeing  _ mew _ here,” he quipped by way of greeting, mirth dancing in his odd eyes. Turning back to face the Akuma, he shoved hard on the baton throwing his opponent back. She somersaulted through the air several times before coming to an ungraceful halt, arms flailing as she struggled to regain her balance in the air. Chat Noir paid her no heed as he extended his baton and offered her a hand, lopsided grin never once leaving his face. “Shall I whisk you away to safety, my Princess?” He inquired.

“Shouldn’t you deal with the Akuma?” Marinette hedged, glancing at the Akuma victim before returning her gaze to the cat-themed hero before her. In truth, Marinette was mostly interested in finding a place to transform so she could help him. But, of course, Chat didn’t know that so she wasn’t really surprised when he waved off her concern and instead pulled her to her feet and wrapped an arm securely around her waist.

“Nonsense, Princess. My job first and  _ fur-most _ is to make sure damsels like you are safe,” he purred cheekily. Marinette scowled and would have protested both the ridiculous pun and the use of the word ‘damsel’, but before she could the baton suddenly extended, shooting them up into the air with no warning. For the sake of her pride, she was going to blame the unexpectedness of it all on the girlish yelp that escaped her when she suddenly found herself shooting into the air. Marinette had spent the past ten years swinging rooftop to rooftop with the use of her magic YoYo, but it was quite a different experience when someone else was in control. Granted, she trusted Chat implicitly. He was her partner, her best friend, even if he didn’t know that; she would trust him with her life whether she was suited up or in her civilian form. That didn’t stop the apprehension, however, as he carried her effortlessly across the rooftops, the ground seeming to stretch miles below them.

Eventually, Chat dropped down onto a familiar balcony and allowed her to slither from his arms. Only the firm grasp he kept on her elbow kept her legs from completely giving out. She definitely preferred leaping across rooftops of her own accord, that was for sure. Chat Noir kept his steady grip on her elbow until he was certain she could stand on her own two feet, then backed off and leaped deftly atop the railing of her balcony and gave her a two-fingered salute.

“Stay safe,  _ purr-rincess _ ,” he said, extending his baton and disappearing before she had a chance to thank him. Marinette smiled fondly as she watched him leave, ensuring he was well out of sight before opening her purse to release the Kwami hidden inside. Tikki floated up until she was eye level with her chosen, blue eyes locked on where the cat-themed hero had disappeared, before turning to look at the dark-haired girl with a kind smile.

“Chat Noir sure does care for both sides of you, doesn’t he Marinette?” She asked thoughtfully. Marinette smiled affectionately and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Yeah, he really does, Tikki. But we have a job to do, and a cat to help! Tikki,  _ Spots On! _ ”

  
  
  


The battle itself was mostly uneventful. When Marinette arrived, fully garbed in her Ladybug suit, Chat Noir was perched on the tip of his baton much like his namesake, taunting the Akumatized victim shamelessly. The Designer, thoroughly frustrated by this point, was shooting beam after beam at the black cat but he was too quick for any of her attacks to land. This only further infuriated her, which in the end threw her off her game enough that capturing her Akuma was quick and fairly easy. Ladybug smiled as she released the Akuma, before holding her fist up for their end-of-fight ritual. Chat Noir lifted his fist as well, but as they bumped knuckles, pain flickered temporarily across his face.

The look was so fleeting, Ladybug briefly wondered if she was mistaken, but upon closer inspection, she could see her partner was more tense than usual. His smile seemed more forced as well. Her earrings beeped ominously in her ear, but she had a little bit of time and so for now, they were ignored in favor of approaching her partner. Ladybug laid her hand gently upon his shoulder, immediately noticing the subtle way he flinched at her touch, and her concern grew tenfold.

“Chat? You’re hurt,” she murmured, concern filling her tone. Green, cat-like eyes flickered to her and a brief smile flickered across his lips.

“Nonsense, my Lady. This cat is in  _ purr-fect _ health. Besides, I have nine lives, remember?” He assured easily, extending his baton and shooting her a quick wink. The spotted heroine opened her mouth to protest, but he was gone before she could say a word and another beep from her earrings prompted her to swing off in search of a place to detransform.

  
  


The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Through some stroke of luck, Marinette had just enough time to buy a latte before heading to her second class of the day. When classes were finished, she eagerly packed her bags and headed for home. Unfortunately, her day of relaxation was slightly dampened by her worry over her ridiculous partner. Chat had always tried to hide whenever he was seriously injured and to this day, it still drove her absolutely insane. If she tried the same thing, he would be all over her until she told him where she was hurt and allowed him to inspect the injury to his satisfaction. Hypocritical feline. Because of this, most of the day was spent worrying and trying to forget about the stupid feline. She watched a few movies, worked on a few designs, and surfed the internet but nothing seemed to work. She considered leaving her small apartment and it’s suddenly oppressive silence, but Alya and Nino were both out of town on their honeymoon and she didn’t really feel like venturing out without an explicit destination in mind. Besides, leaving the house was too much work. She would have to change out of her pajamas and put a bra on and that was way more commitment than she wanted to deal with at the moment. So, she stayed in.

Marinette tried to go to sleep early, figuring the rest would help take her mind off her worries, but sleep was evasive as always and that’s how Marinette found herself on her balcony with a plate of fresh from the oven chocolate chip cookies and a mug of cinnamon hot chocolate, wrapped in a blanket with her sketchpad laid across her lap. The pencil was poised over the blank page, but her gaze was on the sky rather than the paper before her and that’s how she spotted the black, leather-clad figure sprinting across a nearby rooftop. Marinette didn’t really think, she just acted upon instinct. Half rising from her chair, she lifted a hand in greeting while calling out to the cat-like hero.

“Chat Noir~”

The figure faltered mid-stride, head turning in her direction. He seemed to debate with himself for a moment before taking a running leap and springing across the span of space between the building he was on and her balcony. It would have been graceful, if he hadn’t miscalculated his jump and ended up crashing to the floor of her balcony, nearly knocking her hot chocolate and cookies off the small table before her in the process. Marinette rose fully and crouched beside him, concern immediately filling her bluebell eyes.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay!?” She yelped, hand brushing carefully against his back. Chat recoiled from the touch with a hiss of pain and Marinette immediately retracted her hand, even as her worry grew.

“I’m feline fine, Princess,” he gritted out, pushing himself up stiffly until he crouched, cat-like, before her with a strained smile. Marinette frowned, unconvinced.

“You’re not fine, Chat. You’re obviously hurt,” she scolded, taking his elbow and helping him up despite his protestations. She was a girl on a mission, however, and he eventually gave up and allowed her to sit him gingerly down on the small loveseat she had put on her balcony. She crouched before him, determination lighting her gaze. “Tell me where it hurts, Chat,” she murmured, her voice somehow sounding gentle and fierce at the same time. He blinked at her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, perhaps in disbelief.

“Truly, Princess, I’m totally f-”

“If you say fine  _ one more time _ , so help me I will  _ neuter _ you, Chat,” Marinette growled impatiently. The boy before her yelped, eyes wide, and immediately moved his clawed hands to cover his crotch defensively.

“Such a cruel Princess,” he lamented, peeking at her with one eye before finally sighing in defeat. “Truly I’m f- uhm, I'm okay, Princess. Just got thrown into a wall is all,” he assured her when it became clear she wasn’t giving up. 

“So it’s your back?” She asked, rising so that she stood over him. He nodded sheepishly and she tutted in disapproval. “You hurt your back and you’re still leaping around rooftops all night? You should be laying down,  _ Chaton _ ,” she scolded, shaking her head. Chat smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

“I get restless and besides, I thought moving might loosen up the muscles,” he explained. The girl gave him a dubious look before rolling her eyes heavenwards.

“You’re staying here tonight,” she informed him, moving to drop down on the other side of the couch. As the cat-themed hero sputtered beside her, Marinette picked up a cookie and took a bite before resuming her earlier position, sketchpad in lap and pencil in hand. It took the boy a moment to formulate an appropriate response.

“Wh-what!?” He finally settled on, staring at her slack-jawed. She glanced up from the blank page to look at him from beneath long, dark lashes that fanned shadows across her cheekbones.

“You. Are staying. Here. Tonight,” she enunciated clearly as if he had trouble hearing.

“ _ Huh!?!?! _ ” He said, quite eloquently.

“You’re hurt, and I have a pullout couch. You saved my life; let me return the favor,” she said simply, dropping her gaze back to the sketchpad in her lap. It was still painfully blank, and even as she placed the tip against the page, nothing came to her. She was too focused on the cat-boy wonder sitting beside her.

“Princess, I’m a hero. It’s my job to take care of you,” he pointed out, and if she were looking at him she might have noticed the way his cheeks had reddened to a becoming shade of pink. But she wasn’t looking at him and so ultimately, she missed his adorable blush.

“And who takes care of you, kitty?” She asked, finally lifting her gaze back to his. Chat Noir opened his mouth, but nothing came out and in the end, he shut his mouth and settled on simply staring at the odd creature before him. She nodded, satisfied. “That’s what I thought. Are you hungry?”

Chat Noir shook his head mutely, his eyes never leaving the girl beside him, but when she leaned forward and casually nudged the plate of cookies closer to him, he couldn’t resist taking one or two… or five. They were delicious, melt in your mouth chocolate chip cookies and it took everything in him not to moan in delight at the sweetness that was currently blessing his taste buds. Marinette watched him from the corner of her eye, satisfaction filling her as she watched him scarf down the treats. Their suits really left nothing to the imagination and it didn't take a rocket scientist to note that her partner was unusually underweight for a twenty-something-year-old man. When questioned previously, he had mentioned to her alter ego that his job required a strict diet. She was pretty sure his job was borderline starving him but there was little she could do about that except slip him occasional treats in both her Civilian and Superhero forms. Leaning comfortably back against the love seat, Marinette lifted her eyes back to the sky above. With the lights of the city blazing all around them, it was difficult to see the stars. But a few of the brighter ones managed to shine through nonetheless and she watched them twinkle in the night sky appreciatively. Eventually, exhaustion seemed to overtake the leather-clad hero beside her and he eventually dozed off beside her. Marinette set her sketchpad aside, finally giving up all pretense of drawing, and instead took to watching her partner sleep. When he was awake, there was always a guarded quality to the easy-going tomcat she couldn't help but notice. Beneath all the jokes and flirtations, the reckless behaviors, there was always a part of Chat that seemed held at bay and it pained her that he felt the need to hide anything of himself from her... aside from their secret identities, of course, which she was still adamant about them keeping.

Now, asleep as he was, Chat Noir's face was slack and innocent. He almost resembled a young boy, in this instant, and a fierce wave of protectiveness crashed through her for her friend and partner. Eventually, the tomcat slumped over and his head ended up in Marinette's lap but she couldn't bring herself to mind. Chat Noir was incredibly warm against the chilly night air and when her hand instinctively found itself tangled amongst his silky golden locks, she found herself more at peace than she had felt in a long time. Her slender fingers danced through the golden strands lightly, twisting and brushing gently until a soft rumble began to fill the air that surrounded them. Chat snuggled closer, a contented sigh escaping beneath his purr as he unconsciously pressed his head further into the girl's hand, relishing in her gentle ministrations. At that point, Chat Noir ceased whatever feeble protestations he might have tried to come up with, and when Marinette finally removed her hand from his hair to cover her mouth with a yawn, he obediently followed her into the apartment and watched mutely as she pulled out the couch bed and brought him pillows and a blanket. That night, Chat Noir lay awake in bed for a long time thinking about the amazing girl who had taken him into her home without hesitation… even though she didn’t know his identity. It took a great amount of faith to trust someone who’s first name you didn’t even know and he was eternally grateful to have her in his life… both his superhero one and his civilian one. She truly was a great friend.


	2. Can I Pick, Princess?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immediately follows “Stay”. Marinette wants to properly thank Chat for saving her during the Akuma attack and she wants to make him a matching scarf and hat… but isn’t certain which colors to choose. Luckily it’s Chat to the rescue once more when he offers to pick the colors for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent like two hours this morning just coming up with and writing prompts for each day of this month, figuring it would help me get the stories out on time, and I gotta say I am so pleased with what I came up with... as well as with what my beloved hubby came up with for the two prompts I was stuck on xD One of which was this one, so shout out to Lil_Fangirl27 for your awesome idea! Without you, this likely would have been a super cliche 'movie night' drabble and I think the fandom has more than enough of those lmao

Marinette scowled at the basket before her. Her once clean coffee table was littered with various balls of yarn in just about every color of the rainbow and she had sorted through them a half dozen times already… but she still wasn’t sure which colors to go with. After Chat Noir had saved her in her civilian form a few days prior, she wanted to thank him properly. Letting him spend the night while he was injured was common human decency… but she felt she ought to give him something as a token of her gratitude. He already got less attention than he deserved from the civilians of Paris. She wanted him to know that some people did appreciate his efforts. So, she had decided to make him a hat and matching scarf. The problem was, she didn’t know what colors to go with.

On the one hand, she could go with his usual colors of black and green. She had plenty of black yarn, and she had recently acquired a nice almost neon green yarn that would go quite well together with the black. The problem was, it seemed kind of cliche and she wanted to think outside the box. She had considered doing Ladybug colors, which she knew he would love, but again she didn’t want to come off as cliche. She wanted the gift to be unique; meaningful. She wanted it to represent who he was inside… not the superhero but the boy behind the mask. The problem was, she didn’t  _ know _ who the boy behind the mask was and it made things a bit more difficult. Groaning, Marinette flopped back against the yellow and red throw pillows that littered her dark gray sectional, strongly considering giving up for the night and going to bed.

After all, the likelihood of her running into Chat Noir again so soon in her civilian form was pretty slim. It wasn’t as if he was just going to come knocking on her window to be let in… right? As if summoned by her thoughts, a tapping noise came from the sliding glance doors that led out onto her balcony. Marinette jumped, startled, and turned to peek over the back of the couch in disbelief. Sure enough, there was Chat Noir, waving at her with a sheepish grin from her balcony doors. Marinette blinked, slack-jawed, and for a moment she was frozen in place. Outside, Chat Noir’s expression drooped and realizing that he was probably taking her surprise as reluctance to let him in spurred her into action. Scrambling up, she rushed to the balcony and unlocked the door, sliding it open and staring up at the leather-clad hero wide-eyed. 

“Chat Noir! I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, stepping back and beckoning him. The superhero stepped into the apartment, sweeping a gallant bow and taking up her hand to press a gentle kiss across her knuckles.

“I was just dropping in to see how my Princess is doing,” he purred, and Marinette had to suppress an eye roll as he waggled his eyebrows playfully. Some things never changed. Tugging her hand effortlessly from his grasp she turned and returned to her dilemma, trusting her partner to follow her. He did, settling down on the other end of the couch to watch her with a curious look as she dropped back down onto her side with a heavy sigh.

“I’m fine, Chat. Just work and school are kicking my butt,” she admitted, picking up a roll of purple gradient yarn before replacing it with a sigh. The superhero scooted closer, curiosity on his face, and gestured towards the pile of yarn before her.

“Is this for a class assignment?” He asked, curious. Marinette hesitated at answering. She didn’t want to lie, but admitting it was for him would ruin the surprise. In the end, she compromised and went with a half truth.

“It’s a gift for a friend,” she said, a perplexed frown furrowing her brow. “He uh… helped me quite a bit the other day and I wanted to make him something as a thank you present,” she explained, watching the man beside her carefully for any hint that he was onto her. Chat Noir just nodded in understanding and reached out to pick up a ball of rainbow colored yarn, wrinkling his nose slightly at the array of bright colors. She had already decided against that yarn and the others like it, as she didn’t really think it was something he would like Judging by his reaction, she was right.

“What colors are you going to choose?” He asked, green cat eyes flicking in her direction as he replaced the ball of yarn. Marinette pursed her lips against another sigh, scanning the yarn for the umpteenth time that night.

“That’s the problem… I don’t even know his favorite colors and I don’t want to make something he would hate,” she explained, shoulders drooping. Chat was silent for a long moment and she glanced over at him in question. The leather-clad hero was staring at her incredulously, eyes comically wide with disbelief.

“I doubt anyone could hate anything you make, Marinette. Especially when it’s something you made them as a personal gift,” he said firmly. Marinette reddened at his suddenly fierce gaze and shifted awkwardly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

“That’s very kind of you to say, Chat, but-”

“Can I pick, Princess?” 

Marinette looked up, startled, to see a pair of intense green eyes staring at her hopefully. It made sense… he was here and who better than pick out the colors than the recipient himself? A sudden smile overtook her face and reaching out she grasped the hero’s clawed hands in her own. “Oh, would you, Chat!?”

Chuckling at her eagerness, the tomcat carefully extracted his hands from her grasp and turned to stare at the yarn intently. Occasionally, he would pick up a ball or two, inspect the colors alone and together, before ultimately dismissing them. Beside him, Marinette twisted her hands together apprehensively as she watched him. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. This was just Chat Noir, after all. Her trusted friend and partner. He wasn’t the judgemental type and she knew he would love and value anything she gave him… but it still made her nervous to watch him deliberate so intently. After what seemed like ages but in reality was just a few minutes, two balls of yarn were thrust in front of her face.

Caught staring off into space, Marinette reeled backward with a squeak, staring at the yarn intently before slowly lifting her gaze to the odd green eyes beaming back at her. She shouldn’t have been surprised by his choices. Not really. Chat Noir might be clad in a suit made almost entirely of black leather, but he had such a sunny and energetic personality. Often he resembled an enthusiastic six-year-old. So the colors he chose, though much lighter than she had expected, were somehow fitting. Reaching out, she accepted the plush yarn. Chat had decided on a light, Sky Blue yarn alongside a Daffodil Yellow. The two colors were bright and warm and they would go together beautifully.

Marinette grinned, overjoyed that her dilemma had been resolved, and without much thought, she launched herself across the sofa to wrap the tomcat in a tight embrace. Chat stiffened, eyes widening in surprise, but after a moment he gingerly returned the embrace. When the ravenette finally pulled back, she plucked the yard from his hands and swept the others back into the basket. She would return it to her studio later but for now, she wanted to start on Chat’s present. Knitting was a therapeutic practice and Marinette had been doing it for so long she could probably do it in her sleep. Chat Noir watched her work for a bit, amazed at how deftly her fingers and the knitting needles moved together to slowly form a blue and yellow striped scarf.

Eventually, Chat plucked up the tv remote and turned on  _ The Road to El Dorado _ . It was one of Marinette’s favorites and she smiled at his choice before returning to her work. The night wore steadily on, minutes slipping into hours, and still, Marinette worked. At some point, Chat laid down on the couch and his head found its way into her lap. She had paused at that, surprise crossing her face as the leather-clad hero made himself comfortable. She found her fingers brushing lightly through his golden hair, and was startled to find it was soft and silky as opposed to spiky as she had always imagined. A soft noise of content, bordering on a purr, rumbled from the man’s throat and she continued to run her fingers through his hair and scrape her nails gently along his scalp in a soothing gesture until eventually, the cat-like hero fell into a deep slumber.

When Marinette was certain he was asleep, she didn’t have the heart to move him, so she continued to knit above him, arms held at a slightly awkward angle so as not to drop yarn in his face. The position wasn’t nearly as comfortable but it was doable and she returned to her comfortable rhythm once more. The scarf was finished and she immediately started on the hat. Occasionally, Chat would shift and mumble in his sleep and the young woman would pause and run her fingers soothingly through his hair until the fitfulness faded and he returned to his slumber. It was nearing four in the morning when she finally finished knitting the hat. Like the scarf, it was blue and yellow stripes. She had cut holes for his cat ears and placed a little, dark blue cotton ball between the ear holes for added charm.

Exhausted, Marinette folded the hat and scarf up on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch, legs curling up beneath her. She knew she could leave Chat to the couch and retire to her bed, but his presence was comforting and she soon drifted off with her fingers tangled in his golden locks. When she awoke again, it was still dark out and she immediately noticed the lack of warm on her lap and side. Her hand groped out blindly before she opened her eyes, blinking in the darkness as she searched for a vaguely cat-shaped boy. When she didn’t immediately spot him, she opted to call out and her voice came out dry and scratchy, making her wince. She should have drunk a glass of water before sleeping.

“Chat?” She croaked out. A rustle of movement drew her gaze to the balcony door as a dark silhouette, outlined by moonlight, filled the doorway.

“Right here, Princess,” he murmured his voice heavy with sleep still.

“Are you leaving?” She mumbled, voice cracking painfully.

“Yes, I should get home. My Kwami needs to rest. Do you want me to get you a glass of water first?” He was already moving towards the kitchen as he asked the question and simply mumbled a brief affirmation. Straightening up on the couch, she stretched her arms over her head until her back popped, then dropped her arms and used one fist to rub the sleep from her eyes. The sound of the tap turning on filled the silence momentarily before it was shut off and Chat Noir returned to her side. In the darkness, his eyes seemed to glow as the glass was placed gingerly in her hand. Knowing he could see far better than she could, she smiled her gratitude and quickly down the glass.

When it was empty, the glass was removed from her hand and placed on the table. “I have to go now, Princess. Go sleep in your bed, okay?”

“Mkay,” she mumbled, mouth stretching wide in a yawn that brought tears to her eyes. The leather-clad man chuckled and rose. His clawed hand pressed briefly into her neck and collarbone as he bent at the waist and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead.

“Sweet dreams,  _ ma princesse _ ,” he murmured, pulling away and turning away. Before he could completely leave, Marinette caught his wrist as the previous night flooded back to her.

“Wait! Don’t forget your presents,” she said, reaching behind him and plucking the scarf and hat off the table. Chat Noir’s eyes widened in surprise as the gifts were thrust into his hands and she shifted awkwardly. “As a thank you… for saving my life. And for coming to check on me,” she mumbled, cheeks turning beet red as he shifted his eyes from the presents to her. He stared at her for a long moment, seeming at a loss for words, before a brilliant white smile overtook his face and Marinette found herself pulled into a bone-crushing embrace. The girl blushed to the roots of her hair, an affectionate smile crossing her face as she patted the boy awkwardly on the back.

Too soon, Chat pulled back and bid her goodbye. In the dim moonlight, she watched him leap from her balcony and jump from rooftop to rooftop until he disappeared from sight. An affectionate smile curved her lips and with another yawn, she finally closed and locked the balcony door before heading to her room and her bed. That night, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, "Adopted Cat"
> 
> Comment, comment, comment guys! I love feedback ;)


	3. Her Favorite Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Adopted Cat." Marinette thinks her apartment is kind of lonely. Alya suggests she adopts a kitten. Chat Noir is not pleased…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha, once again on track lol! I really liked how this one turned out. I thought it was cute and fluffy and Chat Noir deserves all the love <3

“Don’t get me wrong, I  _ love _ my apartment and I love having my own space… it just gets lonely here, you know?” Marinette said, handing her best friend a glass of wine and settling down beside her with her own glass clasped tightly between her fingers. It was Saturday night and it had been just over a week since Chat Noir had last visited the raven-haired woman. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed the stupid tomcat’s company. Without him there, the apartment just seemed to empty and quiet.

“Well, why don’t you get a roommate?” Aly suggested thoughtfully, swirling the wine around in her glass before taking a sip. “You do have a spare bedroom.”

“Yeah, but I use the room as my studio and I don’t know… the only person I would really be comfortable moving in with is you but you’ve just moved in with Nino,” she pointed out, not unkindly. She was perhaps the biggest supporter of Alya and Nino’s growing relationship and had been more than happy to help them move three months prior when they had gotten an apartment together.

“That’s true… what about a pet?” Alya suggested thoughtfully. Marinette was about to snort, but she paused thoughtfully.

“A pet?” She asked, testing out the word. Her best friend bobbed her head thoughtfully in agreement.

“Sure, why not… you like animals, don’t you?” She asked. Marinette nodded without hesitation. Growing up she had always wanted a pet but living above a bakery, it had never been possible. The thought genuinely hadn’t even crossed her mind when she had gotten her own place but she knew her apartment was pet friendly. She had the money to pay the deposit. Perhaps a pet wasn’t such a bad idea after all…

  
  


Marinette wrung her hands together anxiously, head tipped back to stare up at the building before her. The sign proudly proclaimed the name of the building:  _ Noah’s Animal Ark - Animal Rescue and Shelter. _ It had been exactly one week since Alya had suggested she get a pet, and after days of going back and forth, she had finally decided to see what the local shelter had to offer. So here she was, standing in front of the shelter on a chilly Saturday afternoon. She was fairly certain that she wanted to start small… a kitten, perhaps. Still, now that she was actually here, the idea of adopting an animal seemed incredibly daunting. She had never before had a pet (Chat Noir didn’t  _ really _ count), so she wasn’t sure what to expect.

Beside her, Alya laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile. She had offered to accompany the raven-haired woman in seeking out her new companion and, most likely, to ensure she didn’t chicken out last minute. “Come on, Mari, you’re adopting a  _ kitten _ , not a baby,” he friend teased, nudging her forward. A bell jingled over the door as the pair stepped inside. Marinette stared around the lobby white eyes. The walls were a calming spring green, covered in posters of animals with inspirational captions and various flyers for lost pets and upcoming events. A few chairs lined one wall, and directly before them, was a little receptionist area, blocked on all four sides by a wall that came up to Marinette’s chest. A small wooden swinging door allowed workers to easily exit the reception area as needed, and a single wooden door sat behind the desk that likely led to an office.

A man rose from behind the counter as they entered. He wore jeans and a tee-shirt beneath an apron that was covered in animal hair as if he had just gotten finished shaving an animal or two. He was skinny, with a mop of sandy brown hair atop his head and warm blue eyes beneath a pair of wire-framed glasses. He grinned a wide, dimpled smile as Alya propelled Marinette towards him. “Afternoon, ladies. My name is Noah; I run this fine establishment. How may I help you today?” He asked, eyes crinkling with his smile.

“Hello, Noah! We are looking to adopt a pet today. A-” Alya paused, nudging Marinette sharply and drawing a pained squeak from her smaller girl as Alya’s elbow dug into her ribs. “You wanted a kitten, right Marinette?”

“Oh, um yes. A kitten,” the darker haired girl agreed, a sheepish smile lighting her face as she blinked up at Noah. He smiled warmly back and nodded enthusiastically.

“Great! Are you a first time cat owner?” He asked, stepping out from behind the desk and moving to join them in front of the counter. Marinette nodded shyly, her hands resuming their anxious fidgeting.

“Y-yes. I grew up above a bakery so we couldn’t have pets growing up,” she explained, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

“You’re in for a treat then! We have several kittens who would make great choices for first time pet owners,” Noah exclaimed warmly, beckoning the two girls to follow him. With long loping strides, the man led them to the far left side of the lobby and held open a door marked with a black, cat-shaped silhouette. The two young women stepped inside and followed him down a long hall lined on either side with cats in cages. “These are our adult cats. Any cat over six months of age goes in their own separate kennel but the kittens share a room,” he explained as they walked, leading them to a glass door near the end of the hall. The door was pushed open and the trio stepped inside. Marinette blinked, shocked, as she took in dozens of kittens in all shapes, sizes, and colors.

“If you have any questions, just let me know!” Noah said warmly before backing out of the room and shutting the door behind them. Marinette and Alya shared a look, neither certain how they would ever narrow it down to just one. The next hour was spent playing with kittens. There were black kittens, white kittens, gray kittens and orange kittens. There were kittens with spots, stripes, and patches in various patterns, and eyes that ranged from green to hazel, blue to amber. Eventually, Marinette settled on an adorable little white kitten with orange, black, and brown patches and the prettiest pair of amber eyes she had ever seen.

Noah grinned warmly as they returned to the main lobby, kitten in hand, and began to walk them through the adoption paperwork. When they finished, Marinette paid the fee and purchased a small pink cat carrier and a little pink collar with a silver bell attached from the small shot on the right side of the room. When all was said and done, the two girls thanked Noah and left the shelter, kitten securely in its carrier.

  
  


It was hours later that Marinette sat in her living room, bonding with her new kitten. The little cat pounced and swiped at the feather toy she dangled before her face, squeaky little mews escaping her. Tikki watched from a safe distance, amusement in her blue eyes. After she had parted ways with Alya, Marinette had driven to the store to purchase food, litter, and litter box, and just about anything else a new cat owner could need. Toys, a pink bed with a bejeweled crown on the front, and a cream colored cat tree that now sat in one corner of her living room. She had yet to pick out a name for the kitten. Nothing seemed to fit but she figured that it would come to her soon enough so for now, she was just calling her  _ minou _ .

The sound of claws tapping against her balcony door nearly made her shriek in fright before she glanced over the back of the couch and spotted a familiar, leather-clad superhero. She grinned, abandoning the toy to her new kitten’s claws and leaped up to let him in. Chat grinned at her obvious eagerness, sweeping his signature bow in greeting. “Good evening, purr-rincess,” he purred, green eyes twinkling with mirth. For once, Marinette didn’t mind the use of the pun. Grabbing his arm, she dragged him into the apartment with the excitement of a child let loose in a candy shop.

“Guess what I got today, Chat! Go ahead, guess!” She squealed, positively vibrating with energy. The superhero laughed and her childlike glee and made a show of thinking long and hard. Marinette, too impatient to wait for any length of time, dragged him around the couch and waved to her new kitten with a flourish. “I got a kitten!”

Chat Noir blinked, staring at the kitten for a very long time. He didn’t speak, didn’t move… it was as if he had been frozen in time. Concerned, the raven-haired woman waved in front of his face, trying to jar him from whatever glitch he was going through. When that didn’t work, she stepped in his line of vision and moved to press the back of her hand against his forehead. Before she could, Chat move, hand catching hers before she even registered him moving. “ _ What, _ ” he bit out succinctly, “is  _ that _ !?”

Marinette blinked, glancing over her shoulder before looking back at the cat-themed hero with a frown. “My new kitten…?” She asked, thoroughly confused by this point. Chat Noir gasped, hand clapping over his heart as he reeled back in shock. She stared at him, one brow arched in question.

“ _ Princess!?!? _ How could you get a new kitten? I thought  _ I _ was your kitten,” he whined, lip jutting out petulantly. Marinette stared at him for a long moment. Her lip twitched and she bit it, trying to hold back the laughter bubbling up within her. She couldn’t hold in for long though before loud peals of laughter filled the small apartment. The kitten fled at the sudden sound, while Chat crossed his arms unamused and glared at the woman, waiting for her to finish. When her laughter finally faded, tears dotted her cheeks and mirth filled her shimmering bluebell eyes.

“Ch-Chat a-are y-you  _ j-j-jealous _ !?” She gasped out, still giggling a bit. The leather-clad superhero reddened visibly and turned away abruptly, nose in the air.

“O-of course not. Why would I be jealous of that pipsqueak?” He snorted, lips pulling down in displeasure. The ravenette watched him for a long moment, affection dancing in her eyes, before finally moving to wrap her arms around his midsection from behind. Chat stiffened in surprise as she pressed her forehead between his shoulder blades, glancing over his shoulder at her with wide, spring colored eyes as his blush deepened.

“P-Princess?” He asked uncertainly. Marinette tightened her hold on him, her fond smile hidden from his view.

“You’re still my favorite,  _ mon minou _ ,” she murmured quietly. Chat’s ears flickered up in surprise and carefully disentangling himself, he turned to face the woman.

“You- you really mean it?” He asked, hesitantly. Marinette stepped into his arms now that he was facing her, arms curling around his waist and head resting comfortingly against his chest, right over his heart.

“Of course,  _ Chaton _ . You’ve always been my favorite,” she promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up; Croissant Murder


	4. The Case of The Murdered Croissant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read: Chat is a Drama Queen and a Foodie and You Can't Tell Me Otherwise!
> 
> Chat Noir spots his Princess walking home with a heavy box and offers a helping hand-er, paw-so Marinette decides to reward him with a fresh Croissant from her Parent's Bakery with unexpectedly hilarious results

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, omigawd. So I have decided I am going to participate in a second MariChat May drabble series on top of this one (because I can and I like to procrastinate on my already existing stories), but this one is going to feature MariBlanc instead... so keep an eye out! I should have the first story or two posted in within the next few hours, depending on how long it takes me to post this story and the next. Either way, it will be up within the next 24 Hours max!

Marinette sighed in relief as she stepped out of the Dupain-Cheng bakery and turned towards home. Between school and work, the young woman rarely had time to visit her parents these days and so, when her evening class had been unexpectedly canceled, she had decided to drop in on them for a surprise visit. Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng had been thrilled to have their daughter visit, even going so far as to close the bakery early so that they could make the ravenette a proper dinner. Her parents were constantly asking if she was eating properly. She adored them, of course, and appreciated their concern but at this point, you would think they would accept that their little girl wasn’t so little anymore. As fun as it had been to see them, being around her constantly fretful parents could be a bit taxing and she was mentally exhausted. 

Sighing again, she shifted her hold on the heavy box in her arms. She didn’t live far from her parents, so she had decided to forgo taking her Moped and instead walked to the bakery she had grown up above. She should have known better, though, because as soon as she made to leave her parents had boxed up almost all the remaining pastries from the day’s work, as well as several leftover dishes in the fridge they thought she might like. She had tried to politely decline but they were insistent and eventually she had given in. After all, her job at  _ LeClaire  _ might ensure she was in no way hurting for money, but free food was free food. Still, now that she had to walk home with the heavy box, she was kind of regretting not offering to just come back for it tomorrow.

She knew she could technically just duck into an alley and transform, making the trip to her apartment in mere minutes, but she didn’t want to wake Tikki. The Kwami was curled up in her clutch purse, either asleep or in some sort of sugar-induced coma from the obscene amount of cookies she had consumed at the Dupain-Cheng Bakery since they had arrived hours earlier. How such a tiny creature could eat  _ so much _ without imploding was beyond her… but it wasn’t like the tiny Goddess hadn’t earned her treats. After all, she was the reason Marinette was able to help save the world with her friend and partner.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the leather-clad Hero suddenly dropped down in front of her with a wide, impish grin on his face. The ravenette shrieked at his sudden appearance, jerking back in surprise. Unfortunately, she was still the clumsy mess she had been in middle school and tripped over her own feet. She braced herself for what was certain to be a painful fall, but before she could hit the ground a pair of gloved hands were gripping her biceps, steadying her once again. She knew she ought to be thankful that he had stopped her fall, but she was mostly angry at him for just falling out of the sky and scaring the living daylights out of her. “Chat!” She chastised crossly, bluebell eyes narrowing to slits. “You scared the shit out of me,” she snapped.

“Princess, language!” Chat mock gasped, reeling back and clapping a hand over his heart as he affected a scandalized look. She returned the look with a deadpan one of her own.

“Up yours, Kitty,” she retorted dryly, her long day at  _ LeClaire _ and the visit from with her parents making her less than charming company. She was tired and she didn’t have time to deal with her friend’s antics. She just wanted to get home and take a long, hot bubble bath and crawl into bed and sleep for _ ever _ … or at least until seven in the morning when she would have to get up and get ready for a nine am lecture. Stepping past the leather-clad tomcat she continued on her way, rolling her eyes in exasperation when he simply caught up and fell into step with her.

“You’re not nice when you’re having a bad day,  _ Purrincess _ ,” he observed thoughtfully, and although she continued staring straight ahead she could feel his green gaze boring into her. Her lips twisted down in a frown, her annoyance palpable.

“If I’m such poor company, why don’t you make like a cat and  _ scat?”  _ She retorted impatiently. Chat pulled ahead, twisting on his heel so that he was walking backward right in front of her. He had a wide, shit-eating grin on his face.

“You know,  _ Purrincess _ , that almost sounded like a  _ pun _ just now. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was rubbing off on  _ mew _ ,” he teased. The young woman arched a brow, unamused, and so he continued. “But almost-puns aside, no matter what mood you’re in,  _ Purrincess _ , you make the most  _ clawsome _ company a cat could want!”

Marinette stopped abruptly, causing the superhero to stumble as he tried to stop just as abruptly. Regaining his balance, he smiled innocently at her, evidently unaffected by her scowl. “Was there something you wanted, Chat? I’m tired and I want to go home,” she growled.

“I was passing by and saw you struggling with that box. I, um, wanted to see if you needed help,” he admitted, shifting slightly. His ears drooped, green eyes suddenly uncertain and vulnerable, and all the previous annoyance Marinette felt fled as guilt replaced it.

“ _ Shit _ , Chat, you just wanted to help and I’m over here being a raging bitch,” she muttered, her annoyance now turned towards herself instead of the hero before her. The mask shifted in such a way that she was sure he was raising his eyebrows at her.

“You know, when I started calling you Princess, I think I had this vision of you as a very sweet and innocent person but you kinda have a potty mouth when you’re tired and it’s ruining that vision,” he said, dimples flashing as his mouth curved into a fond smile.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze to stare at her feet in shame. A pair of steel-toed boots resembling cat paws stepped into view and a hand landed amidst her loose blue-black locks. She glanced up in surprise to find the cat-themed man smiling warmly down at her. The smile was wide, open, and affectionate, slightly vulnerable, and it reminded her of someone else. It reminded her of another boy, another smile. It reminded her of the sound of rain, the smell of wet pavement, and of a faulty black umbrella. Her heart throbbed involuntarily and she immediately lifted her hand to her chest as if she could physically stop the traitorous organ from reacting. 

“Hey, you’re only human, _ mon chérie _ . You’re entitled to your bad days,” he assured, dropping his hand. As much as she fought it, the blush rose unbidden, turning her pale cheeks scarlet, and she averted her gaze as a familiar feeling of awkwardness filled her.

“R-r-right. Sorry, I’m still. I mean! I’m still sorry. Um. Y-yeah. Go I should. I should go! I um, have stuff to do?” She scrambled to formulate a proper response, her stammering only getting worse as Chat’s face morphed into a look of concern and confusion. She moved to step around him quickly, hoping to flee with her pride still somewhat intact, but he was faster and before she could react, the box was being lifted from her hands. She reached to take it back automatically, but he evaded her grasp quickly.”Ch-Chat, what are you-” She trailed off, a helpless look crossing her face as the black cat turned and began walking off with her box. He paused, glancing back at her in amusement.

“I did say I dropped in to help you, did I not?” He pointed out, continuing down the street. She stood there, dumbfounded, for another moment before scrambling to catch up.

“Chat! Chat, seriously I can carry my own box,” she pleaded, not noticing the stammer disappearing as they re-entered more familiar territory.

“I know you can, Princess. You’re a very strong and capable young woman,” he responded, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “That being said, it’s my duty and pleasure to assist beautiful young women, even if they don’t need the help.”

Her blush was back, stronger than ever before, and she squeaked in surprise earning a chuckle from the stupid cat. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she decided that now would be the perfect time to play the Quiet Game before she further embarrassed herself. Chat didn’t seem to mind the silence, walking along beside her without a word, but when she tried to sneak a glance at him, she found his gaze lingering on her. They both looked away, awkward at having been caught looking in the first place, and Marinette suppressed a sigh of relief when they finally reached the front doors to her apartment building. She fumbled with the keys, dropping them twice in her effort to find the right one, but her companion never lost his patience. He smiled warmly when she finally managed to get the door open, but made no move to join her. She glanced at him quizzically.

“Aren’t you going to come inside?” She asked, blinking up at him in confusion. In the last few weeks, since she had gotten her kitten, whom she had finally named Belle after binge-watching Disney Movies one night with Alya and Nino, the cat-themed hero had visited almost nightly. He claimed it was to ensure the ‘intruder’ (i.e. her new kitten) didn’t try any funny business but she got the sense that his Civilian life was rather lonely. She got the sense that he just really needed a friend and she had no problem being that friend both in and out of the mask, even if Tikki insisted it was too risky.

Chat Noir smiled affectionately and shook his head and for a moment, she was worried she might have driven him off with her earlier rudeness. It dawned on her then how important his visits had become to her. She had always loved Chat in her own way. He was her partner, her best friend, and more times than she could count, she had put her life in his paws, knowing he wouldn’t let her down. The last few months, she had honestly come to rely on his visits. She loved her apartment, but it had become incredibly lonely even with her new kitten. With Alya and Nino starting the next chapter of their lives and her hectic schedule, more often than not she found herself alone. Chat had changed that. As much as she complained about his puns and cat-like habits, they were charming in their own way and he ensured that her once silent apartment was filled with warmth and laughter. She realized that if he just stopped visiting her, she would truly be heartbroken. She wasn’t certain she could manage returning to the dreary existence she had lived before.

Perhaps seeing the worry and vulnerability in her eyes, Chat Noir’s green gaze softened into something far more tender and adjusting the hold on the box he stepped forward, cupped her cheek in one hand, and pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “Not tonight,  _ ma princesse _ . You’re tired and should get some rest,” he murmured, straightening but not immediately stepping back. They were so close, only a sliver of space separating them as they stared into each other’s eyes. Marinette’s heart stuttered erratically and she scarcely dared to breathe, lest the moment be shattered.

“But y-you’ll be back, r-right?” She whispered, uncertain. His responding smile could have rivaled the sun itself in its radiance.

“You couldn’t keep me away if you tried,  _ mon chérie _ . I’ll see you tomorrow night, usual time,” he promised, handing her the box.

“Tomorrow,” she murmured, nodding numbly. Chat Noir smiled and turned away, pulling his baton out when she suddenly called out to him. “Chat, wait!”

The hero turned quizzically and she quickly dug through the top container of the box until she had produced a croissant. Smiling triumphantly, she presented the Croissant with a pleased smile and offered it to him. His face lit up in delight, and she could practically see him starting to drool, but still, he hesitated. “Wh-what’s that for?”

“An apology, for earlier… and a thank you, for always being there when I need you,” she said, extending her arm further to prompt him to take the treat. He reached for it slowly, still seeming uncertain that this was okay, and that’s when things went south. See, in an effort to prove that it was perfectly acceptable for him to take the offered treat, Marinette stepped forward. Chat Noir, normally the vigilant one, was too focused on the delicious, flaky goodness being held out to him that he failed to notice Marinette’s shoe was untied. She  _ might _ have been able to catch herself, but the overly heavy box threw her off balance and she pitched forward, releasing the croissant and the box with a yelp.

Chat Noir reacted on instinct and moved to catch Marinette before she could fall. With her steady, he swiftly began gathering up everything that had toppled from the box, stacking them neatly inside. By the time Marinette had gathered her wits enough to actually help him, he was rising and returning the box to her hands. She opened her mouth too, once again, thank him when she noticed his expression. She had seen a lot of looks on his face before, both as Marinette and as Ladybug, but never before had Marinette seen such a look of utter  _ devastation _ on his face before. He looked well and truly heartbroken and she was about to just drop the box and hug him, beg him to tell her what was wrong and how she could fix it when she followed his gaze to the ground and… 

She snorted. She couldn’t help it. Chat Noir whipped his head up, staring at her with that injured kitten eyes of his, and she lost the battle she was currently waging. Clutching the box in an effort not to drop it again, Marinette fell back against her building and  _ roared _ with laughter. Because while she was sitting here petrified that someone had managed to die in front of Chat between the time she offered him the croissant and when he broke her fall… he was staring at his croissant which had been flattened by the weight of the box and smushed quite effectively into the sidewalk.

“ _ Princess,  _ it’s not  _ funny,” _ he whined, ears drooping and legit tears pricking the corners of her green eyes as he looked sadly back down at the pastry. He looked so incredibly  _ forlorn _ that she couldn’t help but burst into a new round of giggles that had her shoulders shaking and her sides aching from the sheer force of her laughter.

“You just… and it's just… and oh _gawd_ , I thought- I thought someone had  _ died _ , Chat,” she giggled, adjusting the box to one arm so she could wipe away the tears of laughter filling her bluebell eyes.

“Someone  _ did _ die,” the man muttered, looking dejectedly down once more. That just made her laugh harder, to the point where she was gasping almost painfully.

“Can’t… breath… Chat…  _ stop _ ,” she gasped, using her free hand to clutch her stomach as her whole frame continued to shake with mirth. Unamused, Chat Noir glared at her until the laughter finally subsided and she seemed to have caught her breath.

“Are you  _ done _ ?” He growled crossly. She nodded weakly, lips still twitching as she tried to affect a serious look and failed miserably, judging by the way his scowl deepened.

“You are my favorite person, Chat,” she said genuinely. The scowl faded instantly from his face, replaced with wide eyes and reddened cheeks. Adjusting her hold once more on the box, she shrugged off the wall and stepped forward, going up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t know what I would do without you,  _ mon petit chaton _ ,” she teased, dropping back down and producing another croissant. Blushing furiously, the leather-clad hero opened his mouth to speak but he didn’t get the chance before half the pastry was unceremoniously shoved into his mouth. “Try not to drop that one,  _ mon minou _ .”

“ _ Mmmph _ !” He protested indignantly, blinking at her wide-eyed as she danced backward with a grin. Giving him a brief wave, she re-entered the building, engaging the lock and heading for the elevator bank on the far wall. After pressing the button, she glanced back and was rather pleased to see her  _ Chaton _ still standing there, eyes wide, croissant still half hanging from his mouth, and one gloved hand pressed to his cheek where her kiss had landed. Feeling far better than she had felt the entire day, she waited until the elevator dinged and the door slid open before stepping inside. She turned to face him once more, noting he had yet to move a muscle, and as she stood there staring back at him, she lifted her hand and blew him a kiss, just before the doors slid shut and cut off their view of one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up; Yarning For You


	5. Yarning Fur Mew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has been assigned a complex knitting assignment and needs to finish it before class in the morning. Chat Noir has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my beloved hubbie, Lil_Fangirl_27 for helping me with the idea for the last story! I forgot to mention that when I posted it lol 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed dramatic Chat and these two beginning to catch the MariChat feels. I honestly really enjoyed writing that chapter, far more than I have enjoyed writing anything else in a long time. It was so entertaining and thus far it's my favorite chapter in this drabble series so I sincerely hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing (and re-reading) it ;)

Marinette Dupain-Cheng groaned loudly, glaring at the image sitting on the coffee table to her right. Knitting, much like sewing, had been a favored pastime of the young woman’s for as long as she could remember. She liked to think she was pretty proficient at it, as she had made many gifts for friends over the years and they had always been so enthusiastic. She had made hats, scarves, and sweaters. She had made baby booties and blankets. She had made yarn dolls. She had never knitted anything as complex as the Cardigan before her. The assignment was to choose a knitting project that challenged her and pushed her skills to new heights. It should have been an easy enough task. She had selected a design she liked, gone out and bought the required material, but actually turning her vision into reality was proving much more difficult than she had anticipated.

The design she had chosen used an extra plush yarn in a pretty dove gray. It was a cardigan she was designing to wear herself (since she already had her measurements memorized), and when completed it would fall just past her knees. To be completely honest, it was more like a knitted sweater coat. She had chosen this particular pattern because of how unique it was. The coat sported various different cable patterns that, when brought together, created a charming item that was elegant in its simplicity. Something she could comfortable wearing to a high-end fashion show, or on a midnight grocery run. She knew she had the skill set to make the coat, she was just letting her anxiety get the better of her. She was notorious for second guessing herself. After all, this was supposed to be a twenty-four-hour assignment. She was fairly certain that Professor Pierre had expected everyone in the class to be novice knitters at best. Most fashion design students focused on sewing, whereas Marinette liked focusing on the craft as a whole and all its various art forms were included in that.

Making this coat would probably take days to make… but she wanted to prove she could do it. After all, she was sure there would be times when she was a designer for an established Fashion House, or when she owned her own boutique when she would have to create a rush order last minute. It happened all the time. It was good practice. Glancing towards the wall above Belle’s cat tree, she frowned. It was six pm. She probably ought to make dinner first, since knowing herself as well as she did she knew she was liable to forget all about eating if she started the project now. That being said, the project was due in class tomorrow afternoon at three pm. That gave her just under twenty-four hours to create it. She glanced to her kitchen, back to the clock, down at the materials and design before her and finally took up her knitting needles. What her parents didn’t know wouldn’t kill them. She would eat after the project was finished.

 

It was hours later, when the clock was ticking past the eleven pm mark, that the familiar sound of claws tapping against her sliding glass door drew her out of the zone she had entered upon taking up her knitting needles. She lifted her head, hands stopping for the first time in hours, and looked over her shoulder to find her leather-clad partner standing on her balcony, hands hidden behind his back, looking very much like a depressed kitten who’s been locked out. She gave a jerk of her head, indicating he could come in, and immediately turned back to her work. The sliding glass door could be heard over the soft drone of the television that she had turned on before starting the project. Knitting, no matter the complexity of the design, was pretty menial work for her and required little brain power outside ensuring that she was keeping to the design.

Having the television on in the background kept her mind semi-focused and kept her from going stir crazy. A weight settled over her shoulders, but for once Marinette didn’t startle. She was too focused on the rapid movements of her hands and the steady clacking of the needles. The sweater dress/cardigan had long since started taking definitive shape and she figured if she kept up the hard work, she could probably finish it by six in the morning. It was a Tuesday, so she wasn’t working at  _ LeClaire _ , and one of her morning classes had already been canceled. If she finished by six, she could sleep until eleven and arrive with time to spare to her one pm class, grab a coffee at the student center, and still have time to make it to her three pm class on time.

“Princess,” Chat said, his voice right next to her ear. Marinette spared him a brief glance from the corner of her eye before returning her gaze to the task at hand. In all honesty, she had forgotten he was there. Even with his folded arms pressing into her back, she was so taken with her work it was as if she had forgotten his very existence. Chat didn’t seem to like her lack of acknowledgment if his pout was anything to go off.

“Yes, Chat?” She mumbled, nose wrinkling slightly as she hit a particularly tough part of the design that required a bit more of her concentration.

“I passed by here  _ hours _ ago and I’m not sure you’ve moved from this very spot since then,” he murmured quietly, his breath tickling the back of her neck. She barely even registered his proximity as she grunted her reply.

“That’s not true,” she denied, her hands still flying even as she briefly lifted her cerulean gaze to his jade one.

“Oh?” He asked, amusement dripping from that one word.

“ _ Mhm _ ,” she murmured, returning to watching her hand movement as she continued with, “I turned and looked when you knocked.”

Chat barked out a short laugh at her response and this close to her ear, the sound was almost deafening. Normally, that alone would be enough to send the normally jumpy girl a half dozen feet into the air. Now, she didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. “That’s it? I hardly think that counts,  _ ma princesse _ .”

She made a soft noise of consent in the back of her throat, not bothering to deny his words, and silence reigns once more save for the quiet drone of the television and the constant clack of the needles. Chat Noir is quiet, his weight against her shoulders a steady presence, and she finds that she doesn’t mind too terribly. He isn’t leaning into her hard enough to tilt her forward, just enough that she is forced to acknowledge his constant presence. It doesn’t take very long for him to break the silence, and in all honesty, she was surprised he had held out for a solid… fifteen minutes, if the furtive glance she shot at the clock was anything to go by.

“I brought you something,” he says, his voice sounding above and behind her now as opposed to directly in her ear. She hums in response, but Chat seems to be waiting for her to use words so she reluctantly speaks.

“Did you now?” She asked, a hint of a smile creeping into her tone.

“I did,” he confirms and she can  _ feel _ the way he nods sagely behind her before continuing. “See, when I realized you hadn’t moved since I passed by, I figured you hadn’t eaten…”

“You know me well,  _ Chaton _ ,” she agreed softly.

“So I brought you dinner,” he sounded very proud of himself and she couldn’t help the broadening smile. Chat reminded her of a real cat in so many ways. Right now, he reminded her of her aunt’s cat in China, Master Shifu. Her kids had named him after the character in Kung Fu Panda. Master Shifu was a grumble old tabby cat who didn’t like many people, but he had a particular soft spot for Marinette given that she’s the one who rescued him eleven years ago. She had been twelve years old, spending the summer months with her family in China while her parents remained in Paris, running the bakery. The day before there had been a massive summer storm and Marinette, wanting to get away from a house full of stir crazy cousins and overbearing relatives, had sneaked out to go visit her friend, Jun.

She was on her way to her friend’s house when she hear the faintest mewling sound coming from a nearby storm drain. There, she discovered a scraggly little kitten, no more than three weeks of age, covered in muck and stuck in the drain. She guessed it was a stray and had been washed away from its mother and siblings during the minor flooding that came with the storm. It took over an hour fishing the feisty little scrap of fur from the drain, and Marinette rushed the kitten back to her family’s house to get him cleaned and warmed up. That summer, the kitten went everywhere with her and she bottle fed him every two hours religiously. He was a menace, to be honest. He hissed and swiped at anyone who came near him and if given half a chance he bit too. Despite his youth, he was a true feral kitten. 

Only Marinette seemed able to handle him. After a few days of mothering him, he came to adore her and she allowed the children to name him, even though she had hopes of bringing him back home with her. Alas, her parents were adamant. They couldn’t own a cat while living above the bakery. She would have to find him a new home. Unfortunately, Master Shifu was such a bloody terror, he ran off any potential adopters that came near him. By the end of the summer, it was looking like she was going to have to place him in a shelter. Seeing how distraught she was, her Aunt Mei took pity on the child and offered to take in the demon cat. Eventually, Master Shifu did come to accept Aunt Mei and her children as part of his family and stopped trying to murder them. Sometimes, he was even a bit affectionate with them. But when Marinette visited, she was all the cat cared for and he would shower her with various ‘gifts’ that he had caught in his outside excursions. 

Chat reminded her now how Master Shifu always acted when she discovered another one of his presents. Eager, hopeful, and proud. Deciding to indulge him, just this once, she inclined her head slightly towards him with a teasing smile. “ _ Mon Chaton _ , if you have a mouse behind your back I will kick you out and never let you back in again,” she warned playfully. Her eyes twinkling with mirth as they strayed his way. He grinned widely, pleased at finally having captured her attention, and practically preened now that he knew she was watching. She rolled her eyes, but she was amused and perhaps a little charmed by his antics. Not that she would ever tell him that. The man already had an over-inflated ego ten times the size of Buckingham Palace.

“I like to think this cat has better tastes than that,  _ Purrincess _ ,” he purred.

“Is that so?” She hummed in response, her attention already being pulled back to her work. “And what, exactly, did you bring me, oh great hunter Chat Noir?”

“Pizza,” he said, producing the box from behind the couch with a flourish. She side-eyed it with a faint frown. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine the great Chat Noir, hero of Paris, just waltzing into a pizza place and placing an order. The imagery that produced was enough to make her snort softly in amusement.

“You didn’t rob a pizza delivery guy, now did you,  _ Mon Chaton _ ,” she questioned, hands stilling once more as she turned to look at him fully. Chat’s eyes widened, his gaze searching hers as if to determine whether it was a serious question or not. The amusement lurking within their sapphire depths seemed to appease him because he affected a look so  _ comically _ offended, that there was no chance in hell it was genuine.

“Have you forgotten I am a gilded  _ hero _ , Princess?” He mock gasped. She arched a brow, trying to look unamused, but the twitching of her lips kind of ruined the effect.

“However could I forget that?” She asked, rolling her eyes. The weight disappeared from her shoulders completely as Chat Noir straightened suddenly, and she hated to admit it but she missed the warm weight. It had been comforting, in a way. A solid presence even when they were quiet.

“Come on, up. You need to eat,” he commanded. She turned back to her work instead.

“Start without me. I be there in a few,” she mumbled.

“But Princess, it's your  _ favorite.  _ Hawaiian with chicken and  _ real _ bacon, not that canadian junk they use,” he teased, using the exact same words she had used the first time they had had an impromptu pizza party. Canadian Bacon irritated her to no ends. Why couldn’t you call a spade a spade or, in this case, call it ham.

“In a  _ minute _ , Chat,” she insisted.

“You say that now but I know you. You won’t eat until you finish that, if given half a chance,” he chastised. She opted to ignore him, the knitting needles flying despite the way her fingers cramped and ached. At this rate, she would have arthritis by the time she turned in her project. “ _ Marinette _ , if you don’t put that down and come eat, I will make you regret it,” Chat Noir threatened.

More than the threat itself, the use of her name pulled Marinette almost completely away from her project. Chat Noir rarely called her anything but Princess. Occasionally he called her Mari, but she wasn’t sure when the last time he had used her given name. He was staring at her intently, pizza box in one hand while the other rested on the back of the couch. “Threatening a civilian, Chat Noir? Whatever would Ladybug say?” She quipped, turning back to her project so he wouldn’t see the secret smile that curved her lips at the joke. 

The pizza box was set on the cushion beside her before Chat Noir moved around the couch and crouched before her. His hands slid over hers gently, stilling their rapid movements, and with a sigh of annoyance, she lifted her gaze to tell him where he could shove his concern… but the imploring, desperate look in his eyes stopped her cold. Chat opened his mouth and she physically braced herself for the heartfelt speech about taking better care of herself, already knowing that in the end, she would give in because who could say no to those kitten eyes. Instead, she got, “A friend of mine tried to annoy me with bird puns, but I soon realized that toucan play at that game.”

Marinette blinked.

“Have you ever tried to eat a clock? It's very time consuming,” Chat continued, totally deadpan.

Her eye twitched.

“When notes get in treble, bass-ically they get put behind bars. The alto-nate punishment is to push them off a clef and hope they land flat on sharp objects,” he spoke so casually, his expression still so heartfelt.

Her lips tugged down at the corners in the beginning of a frown. He was undeterred.

“Claustrophobic people are more productive thinking outside the box.”

She was full on scowling now, her gaze shooting daggers into his as his lips twitched in amusement.

“Why don't programmers like nature? It has too many bugs.”

“Chat,” she finally spoke, a clear warning in her tone.

“A friend said she did not understand cloning. I told her that makes two of us.”

“No,” she growled.

“When William joined the army he disliked the phrase 'fire at will'.”

“Stop.”

“I don't trust these stairs because they're always up to something.”

“Oh God…”

“So what if I don't know what apocalypse means!? It's not the end of the world!”

“Can you  _ not!?” _ She tried to tug her hands from his but his grip only tightened and he leaned closer until they were nose to nose. Looking deep into her eyes, and with the most sincere smile he could muster, Chat Noir dealt his final blow.

“Princess? I must confess… I can’t help  _ yarning fur mew. _

Marinette’s groan was loud and extended, and could likely be heard throughout the entire building… but it had the desired effect. Suffice it is to say, her project was put aside long enough for her to devour just over half of the pizza, much to Chat’s indigance and her smug satisfaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up; The Shipping Wars


	6. The SS MariChat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You carried me Bridal-style for one Akuma Attack and now Paris Ships us together”. In which Marinette and Chat find themselves in a new predicament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 of MariChat May is finally finished! Sorry, it's late. Trying to play catch-up on my MariBlanc May as well. Hopefully, I will get the next chapter posted here, as well as finish catching up with MariBlanc by tonight but no promises. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

It was on a Wednesday that Marinette Dupain-Cheng once again found herself in the midst of an Akuma Attack with no way to transform. She was at a fashion show, running errands for the Models and Designers of  _ LeClaire _ and fixing minor tears or loose stitching here and there when the Akuma attacked. She called herself  _ Spyder Web _ and unfortunately, she looked like a giant spider who was able to shoot thread out of her backside to capture her victims. First of all, that was just gross. Second of all, Marinette Dupain-Cheng  _ hated _ spiders. She had a long-standing fear of anything closely resembling an Arachnid and having an eight foot tall, hairy, Tarantula looking thing with the backside of a spider and the upper body of a woman (like some sort of demented Centaur) was something straight out of her worst nightmares.

You’ll have to excuse her for freezing in fear while every other sane person took off for the nearest exit. Which is how she ended up trapped in the large room with the creature with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Spyder Web made quick work of the other people still trapped in the room, using her sticky thread-like web to completely ensnare ber victims from the neck down in a cocoon-like fashion before hanging them upside down from the beams overhead. The last person left in the room  _ not _ caught in her web, Marinette was able to unthaw her frozen muscles long enough to back away from the approaching Akuma until her back hit the wall and she realized she had nowhere else to go. Her whole frame was practically vibrating with fear, and she dimly recalled silently wishing her partner would show up and save her when the cat-themed hero in question crashed through a window and slammed into the Akuma. Spyder Web was thrown against the far wall with the force of the attack, rubble from the impact falling on top of her and pinning her to the ground. It wouldn’t keep her down for long but it gave them time.

Chat Noir turned to grin at her, a lopsided grin on his face as he swept his trademark bow. “ _ Purrincess _ , fancy seeing you h- hey, are you okay?” The smile faded as he approached, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder. He retracted his hand immediately when she flinched, eyes widening with concern. “Hey, you’re shaking. Marinette? Mari? Princess? Tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded, crouching down before her so that his green eyes filled her vision. Marinette blinked, tears pricking her eyes before she shot a nervous glance towards the Akuma. Around her, the rubble began to shift as she tried to get up and a fresh bolt of panic flooded the ravenette. She shot a desperate look at Chat Noir.

“I- I can’t… I need to… Can you…” She grimaced as she struggled to find the words she was searching for and a fresh wave of tears filled her bluebell eyes and spilled down her ghostly pale cheeks. Chat looked between her and the Akuma, and she spotted the exact moment that he connected the dots.

“You’re afraid of spiders…” he murmured, frowning slightly. She just curled into a tighter ball in response, eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to see the monstrosity currently struggling to its feet on the other side of the room. Gentle hands cupped her elbows, tugging her out of her protective huddle, and she peeked up to see the leather-clad watching her with a gentle look of understanding. He pulled her to him and she went willingly, arms wrapping around his neck while he pressed one arm into her back and wrapped the other under her knees. He scooped her up bridal style, as opposed to carrying her on his back the way he usually did the few times he had taken her somewhere away from an Akuma Attack, and without another word, he vaulted back through the window he had entered through.

Marinette buried her face in his neck, arms a vice around him as he raced and leaped across the rooftops, away from the Akuma. When they came to a halt, she didn’t immediately release him and Chat had to gently pry her arms from around his neck before allowing her feet to touch the ground. She expected him to leave immediately but Chat used a claw to pick the lock on her balcony door instead, picking her up once more when the door was open and carrying her inside. She found herself being placed on the couch, and Chat disappeared briefly before returning with a glass of water. She didn’t realize how badly she was still shaking until she saw how much the water was sloshing around in the cup from the death grip she had on it. Chat steadied her hand, and she slowly lifted it to her lips and took a long drink, wetting her too-dry throat. When the glass had been drained, Chat took it and set it aside.

“Marinette? I have to go, okay? I have to go help Ladybug,” he explained, sliding his hands into hers and giving her an earnest look. “You’ll be okay while I’m gone, right? I promise to come back and check on you as soon as I can,” he assured. She was dimly aware of nodding before Chat Noir rose and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you soon, Princess,” he promised once more, before leaving the way he had come. Marinette let out a shaky breath, slowly unfurling her tightly balled form as Tikki floated up with a look of concern.

“Are you okay to fight, Marinette? Your fear of spiders isn’t going to just magically disappear when you transform,” she said, worry clear in her blue eyes. The ravenette squeezed her own blue gaze shut before giving a weak nod.

“Chat needs me. Regardless of my fears, I have a duty to him and to Paris. Tikki,  _ Spots On _ !”

  
  


The battle went about as well as one could expect. Ladybug nearly crumbled the second she returned to the building and once again saw Spyder Web towering over her, black eyes glaring down at her from her much greater height. Chat Noir seemed to pick up on her reservations pretty quickly and seemed to guess that she had a fear of spiders without much prompting. Perhaps because he had seen firsthand what Arachnophobia did to Marinette? Either way, she had never been more grateful for her partner than she was on that day. Chat Noir did everything in his power to take on the brunt of the work, engaging the Akuma head on while Ladybug hung back and mostly focused on freeing her victims.

The battle was longer than usual, without her full participation, but eventually Chat tossed her the Spider shaped Pendant that had been infected and she was able to release and cleanse the Akuma. Her partner lay a hand on her shoulder when all was said and done, and his face was soft with understanding. “You okay, Bugaboo?” He questioned. She hesitated before giving a slight nod and bumped her knuckles against his when he lifted his fist/

“I am, thanks to you Chaton,” she assured a small smile on her face.

“Great, because I have a friend who was caught up in the attack and I promised to check on her after I finished,” he explained, turning away. Ladybug was nodding in agreement as he headed for the door, that is until his words caught up with her and she realized  _ she _ was the friend he was talking about. Well…  _ shit _ .

“Chat Noir, wait!” She cried out as her earrings beeped ominously, reminding her of their limited time. He turned to look at her, curious.

“Finally ready to confess your undying love for me, My Lady?” He quipped with a lopsided smile. She frowned at him before shaking her head.

“I have to be somewhere like… right now. Can you watch the Akuma Victim until the paramedics arrive? I’m sure your friend won’t mind,” she pleaded. He hesitated before nodding and she smiled gratefully.

“Thanks,  _ Chaton, _ ” she said, moving to press a light kiss to his cheek before darting out the door and heading home as fast as she possibly could. 

  
  


Chat Noir did stop by that night, as promised, arriving mere minutes after she had detransformed. He hadn’t said a word, simply pulled her into a tight embrace… but it was more than enough. Never before had she been more grateful for her partner’s existence, especially when he suggested they order pizza and binge watch  _ The Vampire Diaries _ for most of the night. They watched the show until the wee hours of the morning, gorging themselves on comfort foods, and not once did the hero bug her to talk about her phobia, for which she couldn’t thank him enough. She knew her fear was irrational and that she ought to get help, but facing her fears wasn’t something she was keen on doing at that particular point in time. When the sun was just beginning to peek above the horizon, Chat Noir decided it was time for him to head home. By that point, Marinette was already half asleep, eyelids drooping heavily as she yawned every few minutes. She protested, insisting she wasn’t tired and didn’t want him to leave, but in the end, they compromised and decided he would stay until she fell asleep. Chat carried the half-asleep girl to her bed and crawled under the covers with her, holding her until he was certain she was asleep before slipping unobtrusively out of the apartment.

Marinette was awakened only a few hours later by a loud banging on her apartment door. She groaned her protest, but the knocking was unrelenting and with a sigh, she opened her eyes fully. She squinted at the clock on her bedside table, grumbling at the fact that it was only nine in the morning and she had gone to bed after six. Still, she sullenly rolled out of bed and reached padded barefoot out of the bedroom and down the hall. The knocking was even louder when she reached the living room and she could feel the start of a headache beginning to throb behind her eyes as she unlatched the door and pulled it open. Alya Cesaire paused, mid-knock, in what seemed like surprise before she grabbed her friend by the shoulders and practically shook the ever-living daylights out of her. Dimly, Marinette wondered if this was how ragdolls felt as she smacked her friend away half-heartedly.

“Marinette! Have you seen the Ladyblog!? It. Is. Blowing.  _ UP!” _ Alya shrieked, the smaller girl groaning and clapping her hands weakly to her ears in protest to the shrill sound invading her skull.

“ _ Alya _ ~ indoor voice,” she mumbled, turning to shuffle back into the apartment. Alya followed as she made her way to the kitchen and began pulling out the makings for a pot of coffee.

“Geez, you look like the living dead, girl. You feeling okay?” She asked, concern briefly overriding her need to share her latest scoop.

“I went to bed less than two hours ago,” the ravenette mumbled, carefully measuring out the coffee grounds and filling the pot with water before flipping it on. Turning once more, she arched a brow at her best friend. “Now, what’s this about your blog?”

“Oh! Omigawd, come on, you’re going to want to sit down for this,” Alya grabbed her wrist and all but dragged her to the living room, shoving her down on the couch and taking the seat beside her. She pulled her laptop from her messenger bag and with a few clicks, she pulled up the blog she had created years ago when Marinette had first received her Miraculous. As the page finished loading, Marinette leaned closer to the screen and suddenly she no longer felt tired. Because staring back at her were pictures of her, being carried bridal style across the rooftops of Paris, by none other than Chat Noir. Somehow, someone had found out her name and the tags below the pictures included things like #MariChat, #CoupleGoals, and #IShipIt. She blinked, dumbfounded, before turning to look at her friend in horror.

“Who, What, How, When,  _ WHY _ !?” She asked.

“Um, okay… I don’t know because my subscribers are mostly anonymous or use pen names but just about everyone is posting pictures of you two. I’m not really sure what this is or how it happened, though I’m sure you could tell me the how since  _ you’re _ the one being carried by Chat fucking Noir in the pictures. They started showing up sometime last night and I guess people ship it? I mean, my OTP will forever be Ladynoir, but I could totally jump on the MariChat bandwagon if given half the chance,” her friend said, ticking each question off on her fingers as she answered the ravenette. Marinette stared blankly at her friend for a long moment, then buried her face in her hands and groaned… loudly.

  
  


Chat Noir returned to visit her the next night, dropping down onto her balcony with a dimpled smile, one hand hidden behind his back. She moved to open the sliding glass door for him, even though she now knew him to be fully capable of picking the lock himself. She crossed her arms and frowned at him as he stepped through the door, scooping up her hand and pressing a chaste kiss on the back of it. “ _ Ma Princesse _ , I missed you,” he purred, green eyes twinkling as he looked down at her. Without warning, he whipped his hidden hand out in the open between them to present her with a single red rose. Something in the woman fluttered as she slowly reached out to take the flower, but she tamped it down. She was supposed to be mad at him… not swooning at his silly, quasi-romantic gestures.

“Chat, we have a problem,” she said, earning an amused glance from the tomcat.

“Oh? And what is that, my Princessa?”

“You carried me Bridal-style for one Akuma Attack and now all of Paris Ships us together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up; Protective Marinette


	7. Protective Mari is Protective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of people don’t take Chat Noir seriously and think Ladybug pulls all the weight on the team. When a bunch of other students are bad talking Chat Noir, Marinette steps in with a word or two to say in the hero’s defense…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who put this Adrienette in with my MariChat!?!? Mostly Adrienette but still technically MariChat????

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” Marinette said by way of greeting, sliding into the chair with an exhausted huff. It was Friday morning, the third Friday of the month. It was a day that Marinette had kept clear in her schedule religiously ever since she had started at Esmod because it was the one day she was able to hang out with Adrien Agreste. Marinette had first met the model in Middle School when an incident with a wad of gum had led to her briefly despising the man and associating him with the likes of Chloe Bourgeois. The whole ordeal was cleared up pretty quickly when a boy offered a girl an umbrella and a heartfelt apology, and the rest was history. She was swept head over heels off her feet. For the next three years, Marinette would stutter and stammer and trip over her words in the face of her crush, and generally make a fool of herself in his presence.

It was after Alya and Nino officially got together that things began to change. With their best friends occupied with each other, Marinette and Adrien were naturally drawn together. It started with study dates and playing video games together, which led to late night movie marathons and hanging out at each other’s houses when they were bored. As their comfort around each other grew, they relaxed and let bits and pieces of their alter egos bleed through. Adrien found in Marinette a confident young woman, perhaps a bit too prone to anxiety attacks, who lived a selfless existence and never hesitated to stand up for the weak and help the downtrod. Marinette, in turn, found a goofy and dorky friend that at times reminded her a little too closely of Chat Noir at times. Her crush on him did not diminish, rather instead it grew and became so much more than it had been before. 

She realized fairly quickly that Adrien Agreste was a flawed human being and she loved him all the more because of it. He was perfect in his imperfections and once she tore down the pedestal she had placed him upon, they became the best of friends. All through high school, Marinette and Adrien stood beside each other through thick and thin. They each dated some, but their hearts were never fully in the relationships they established and when one of them was wallowing in another romantic failure, the other was there with chocolates and sappy movies and a box of tissues to pick up the pieces. Adrien and Marinette became so much more than just friends. They were each other’s most trusted confidante, their most loyal supporter, and it worked for them. When they were both accepted into Esmod, Marinette as a Fashion Design Major and Adrien as a Business Major with a minor in Fashion Design (as per his father’s request), it seemed only natural that they flock together… especially given how their best friends attended different schools.

University proved to be a lot different from High School, however, and before long it became apparent that Adrien and Marinette didn’t have nearly enough time between school and work to keep their friendship going the way it had been. There were times when the pair would go months without seeing each other, save for a few fleeting glimpses in the few classes that they shared, or across the Quad. They missed each other dreadfully and eventually it was decided that on the third Friday of each month, Marinette and Adrien would keep the day free of any classes or work obligations, and would instead meet up for coffee and go do some activity or another. What they did had never really mattered… as long as they were together. There had been trips to the Louvre, the Zoo, and various theme parks in the area. 

They had gone sledding in the winter months, had locked themselves in each other’s apartments countless times when it was raining too hard to even think of venturing outdoors, and on occasion had even taken day trips to various small Vineyards in the area that occasionally led to spending the night in a hotel together. All in all, the third Friday of every month was sacred. It was their day to rekindle their friendship and catch up on anything either of them had missed in the previous four weeks and it was also just a day to relax and unwind with a friend. Their best friend, because that’s what they were at this point. Marinette and Adrien were the best of friends and Marinette was certain she wouldn’t change that for the world. That’s not to say, of course, that Marinette was no longer in love with Adrien.

The fact of the matter was, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had never gotten over her feelings for Adrien Agreste, and she feared she never would. Adrien was the only man who had ever made her stomach flutter, her lungs ache, and her heartthrob with such sweet longing. She had dated several guys during and since high school. There had been Nathaniel Kurtzberg, the shy but indescribably sweet artist she had gone to Middle School with; Luka Couffaine, the relaxed, brooding guitarist and older brother of her friend, Juleka Couffaine; and then there was Théo Barbot, the handsome and charming Teacher Assistant that she had dated from her Sculpting Class last year. There were a few other guys, but none of them were worth mentioning. Likewise, Adrien had dated his fair share of girls. Lila Rossi, Chloe Bourgeois, Kagami Tsuragi… none of them had stuck around very long and a part of Marinette had always secretly hoped it was because Adrien secretly pined for her the way she pined for him.

In a way… he sort of did. Marinette had found out about two years ago that Adrien was in love with her alter ego, Ladybug. Not in the infatuated, crazy fanboy way… no, Adrien had real and very genuine feelings for Ladybug and it had hurt. It felt like Adrien was choosing this better version of herself. The confident, powerful Ladybug over shy, awkward Marinette. She had honestly been furious with him at the time and had avoided him for weeks afterward without a single explanation. Eventually, she came to realize that even though Adrien barely knew Ladybug, what he was doing wasn’t much different than how she had treated him when she first fell for him. She was being a hypocrite and so she came to terms with his crush and that was that. She knew she didn’t have a future with Adrien. Not when she was competing with herself. And that was okay. She was okay with the friendship they had and she was okay with how things were. The important thing was that they were happy, that  _ he _ was happy, and looking at him sitting across the table from her now, she was pleased to see he did, indeed, look happy.

“Oh, no problem, Mari! I ordered your favorite,” he said warmly, sliding a paper coffee cup across the table. Marinette smiled her thanks as she took a sip, wincing at the burn of the hot liquid before melting at the explosion of flavors that assaulted her taste buds. Raspberry Vanilla Hot Chocolate. He really had gotten her favorite and she smiled gratefully as she took a larger drink, despite the way it slightly singed her tongue.

“You’re too kind,” she said with an affectionate smile, setting her cup down to give him her full attention. “Did you have a plan for the day?” 

“I was thinking maybe we could just binge-watch Disney movies or something. I think I want a lowkey day at home,” he explained truthfully. She nodded her understanding with a smile.

“Your place or mine?”

“Yours is comfier,” he pointed out, a twinkle in her green eyes. She snorted and rolled her eyes. Adrien had finally convinced his father to let him get his own place, but the stipulation was that Gabriel got to pick the place and hire a designer. That’s how he ended up with a two-story condo-like apartment with two bedrooms in the heart of one of one of the richest neighborhoods in all of Paris. The apartment itself was beautiful and the decor was tasteful, but there wasn’t really any personal touches that made it a home, and Adrien was too nervous about angering his father to try and fix that problem. He loved her apartment because he said it felt ‘lived in’.

“My place, then.” She agreed with a small smile. The conversation flowed from there as Marinette and Adrien talked about school and work and their near nonexistent social life. Marinette told Adrien about Belle, teasing him about the way he grumbled like an affronted cat, and he, in turn, told her about the puppy one of his coworkers had gotten. Their drinks were replenished twice, and they were just about done splitting a massive slice of Triple Chocolate Cheesecake when a group of students from another school walked in. She could tell by the letterman jackets they wore that they were part of a Fraternity at one of the local Universities, and she could immediately feel her hackles rise. Something about the rowdy bunch just didn’t sit well with her and she turned to suggest to Adrien that they leave when their conversation caught her attention.

“All I’m saying is that, given half a chance, I would totally do Ladybug,” a large jock-looking type with too-blonde hair and dull brown eyes was saying. Marinette stiffened, eyes flickering their way, but Adrien was too busy pulling out his wallet to pay them any mind. Normally she would try to pay half the bill, even though he refused every single time she offered, but this time she just wanted him as far from the table as possible so he wouldn’t hear these guys talk about the woman he loved. Even if that woman was sitting, unbeknownst to all of them, right in front of him. Adrien stepped away from her and she watched him make for the front counter to pay before turning to look at the guys once more. They had settled in at a nearby table.

“Please, like Ladybug would ever date you, Kev. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s dating Chat Noir,” another of the group pointed out.

“Yeah, right… Ladybug is much too good for that flea-bitten alley cat,” the one called Kev intoned with a shake of his head.

“Idiot. They flirt constantly during battle. It’s obvious they’re into each other,” a third said, shoving the blonde a bit harder than what could strictly be considered a playful gesture. This earned him a glare.

“Wrong. That leather-wearing pussy-footed kitten does all the flirting. Ladybug turns him down constantly and it’s no wonder. Chat Noir is probably the most useless superhero there is,” he pointed out. At her table, Marinette went deathly still.

“Why do you say that?” A fourth asked.

“Haven’t you ever noticed during Akuma attacks that Chat Noir spends ninety percent of his time flirting and goofing off? He practically makes Ladybug do all the work!” Kev insisted. Marinette didn’t notice Adrien’s return to the table or the way he had stopped several steps away to glare daggers at the one speaking. She didn’t really think, either, as she rose calmly and curled her fingers around the rest of her Hot Chocolate. Didn’t think as the lid came off, or as she stepped up right behind the one called Kev, or as she unceremoniously upended the contents of the cup over his head. It was fortunate, for him, that this one had already gone cold because there was at least half a cup left and it undoubtedly would have burned him otherwise. As it is, it definitely made a mess and he shot to his feet sputtering as his friends leaped back, none of them wanting to get Hot Chocolate dripped all over them.

Kev turned to glare down at her. Down because now that he was standing directly in front of her, it dawned on Marinette that Kev was an absolute giant. Over six feet tall, for sure, built like a professional linebacker, ugly face twisted into a furious scowl as his brown eyes met her blue ones. “What the hell is wrong with you, pipsqueak?” He snarled, perhaps expecting her to flinch or shy away. She did neither of these things, instead meeting his gaze head on. 

“You’re wrong,” she said flatly.

“Wrong about  _ what _ , sweetheart?” He snorted, giving his pals an exaggerated eye roll that had them chuckling in amusement.

“You’re wrong about Chat Noir. He’s ten times better than Ladybug will ever be, asswipe,” she snarled. This caused the group of men, particularly Kev, to snigger in amusement.

“Aw, does the wittle girl have a wittle crush on the itty bitty kitty?” Kev cooed, arching a brow in amused curiosity as the girl reached up and curled her fist in his shirt front. Now, you should realize that Marinette was a small girl. Barely five feet tall, and barely weighing a hundred pounds soaking wet, she doesn’t look like much especially when you factor in that Kev was probably about six feet seven inches tall and was probably about two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. He really had no reason to be concerned… except that Marinette wasn’t an ordinary girl. Marinette was, in fact, ladybug and even though they didn’t know that and even though she wasn’t in her suit, she was still Ladybug deep down. She still retained most of her super strength outside of the suit, and when she wanted to intimidate, she knew how to intimidate. So when Marinette grabbed a fistful of the man’s shirt he  _ should _ have worried but he  _ didn’t _ because how was he supposed to know he was dealing with reason.

Following that line of reasoning, he  _ also _ wasn’t overtly concerned when she reached up with her free hand and grabbed his shoulder. Mildly amused, definitely curious, and perhaps a little turned on because he had a definite thing for girls with raven hair and bluebell eyes, but in no way concerned. That is, he wasn’t concerned, until her fingers shifted and deftly hit a pressure point that drove the boy to his knees with a gasp of surprise. He  _ wasn’t _ concerned until she then tightened her fist in the front of his shirt and yanked him closer until they were nose to nose, as easily as if she were handling a ragdoll. And he  _ wasn’t _ concerned until those captivating bluebell eyes of hers were locked on his, a fire raging in their cerulean depths with the promise of retribution. 

“Chat Noir is a fucking  _ hero _ . He has put his life on the line to protect Ladybug  _ countless _ times; has thrown himself in the line of fire without a second thought. He’s handled Akuma Attacks almost single-handedly whenever she’s too sick or injured to do anything other than cleanse the Akuma,” she snarled. 

“But-” Kev began, eyes wide with nervousness now. The girl cut him off.

“I’m not done, asshole. Did you know that while Ladybug only fights Akumas and the occasional petty criminal, Chat Noir is out there every night ensuring the streets are safe? He's saved people from getting robbed, raped, and murdered, not because it's his  _ job _ but because he is a genuinely good person. Did you know that he  _ also _ visits the children hospital once a week to visit the sick kids, or that he buys Christmas presents out of his own pocket and delivers them to Orphanages all over the city? Or how about how he mentors underprivileged Youth and works to keep them off the streets out of the goodness of his own heart? Chat Noir is a fucking  _ Saint _ and you’d do well to remember that. He is more than Ladybug will  _ ever _ be and if I  _ ever  _ hear you bad mouthing him or objectifying her like some piece of meat, I will personally track you down and rip off your balls with my bare hands. Have I made myself  _ clear _ !?” She was breathing heavily by the time she finished her rant and it dawned on her that as she had spoken, her voice had gotten steadily louder until she had ended up shouting at the idiot in the middle of a busy cafe.

“Y-yes, ma’am,” Kev squeaked and Marinette looked around warily, cheeks reddening as she noted all the slack-jawed people staring at her. Even  _ Adrien _ looked completely stunned, totally  _ floored _ as he stared at her. Squeaking quietly, she released Kev and without hesitation he leaped up and bolted, followed closely by his idiot friends. In the back of the room, someone began to clap and like a wildfire, applause swept the room until she stood, beet red, the center of attention as everyone applauded and cheered her on. A small smile curved her lips, even in the face of her embarrassment, and all in all, she couldn’t bring herself to regret her outburst because Chat Noir truly did deserve all the praise in the world. He really was far better at this whole superhero thing than she was. It was time for the world to understand that.

  
  


**Bonus scene;** Adrien Agreste was in shock. When he had moved to return to the table, he had immediately noted the group of jocks standing nearby and the vibe he got off them practically made him want to hiss. He was blaming his cat-like instincts, but it could have just been the fact that one or two of them were leering at Marinette in a way that made him very uncomfortable. A few of the men were talking, and he faltered as their words reached his ears. He had long since accepted that people loved Ladybug far more than they loved Chat Noir. He was okay with that. Ladybug was amazing and she deserved all the praise she could get. But did people really think he was useless? Sure, he goofed off a bit and yeah, he was a total flirt, but he liked to think that at the end of the day he still pulled his own weight.

Thoroughly bothered by what was being said, Adrien started forward again, fully intending on grabbing his friend and pulling her out of the restaurant. A few hours in her presence, joking and watching movies and eating too much junk food, and what these idiots said wouldn’t matter anymore. Marinette had a way of making Adrien forget all of his problems with a single look. It was addictive, the positive impact she had on his mood. Marinette seemed to have other ideas, however. He watched in dawning horror as she rose, uncapped her drink, and upended it on the speakers head without batting an eye. Part of him was impressed. Marinette was tiny, and normally so sweet and shy. To see her take on this ass in his defense (or, well, Chat’s but same difference) was kind of hot.

But then he felt scared. Because when the guy rose to his full height, it was like a wall of pure muscle towering over the petite girl. He expected her to back down, was afraid he would have to step in, but she did neither of these things as the man sputtered indignantly. Instead, she told him in no uncertain terms that he was wrong. The man tried to defend his words and, when that failed, tried to belittle her and cow her into backing down. But Marinette was a force to be reckoned with. Watching her effortlessly bring this bull of a man down to his knees with a single touch of her fingers was honestly one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He was in love with Ladybug, not Marinette, but he would be lying if he said there weren’t times when he found her incredibly sexy. This was one of those times.

Marinette went on to list, in great deal, his many redeeming qualities and what he did for the city and quite honestly he was in shock. How didn’t she know about the hospital visits? How did she know about the presents, the extra patrols to fight crime, the mentoring at risk youths? How did she know  _ any  _ of this!? And in all honesty, did it really matter? Because these guys might not care for him but Marinette did. It showed in every tense muscle, in every agitated hand gesture, in every flicker of flames that lurked in the cerulean depths of her bluebell eyes. She was so animated, so righteous, so incredibly  _ radiant _ as she defended his honor… and Adrien felt his heart rate start to quicken just a little bit. His stomach fluttered, his hands grew clammy, and his green eyes seemed incapable of looking anywhere but at the beautiful woman before him.

Marinette finished her tirade with a threat that had the jock and his posse fleeing and he could see her deflate briefly (in relief?) before noting the dozens of eyes locked upon her shaking form. Red blossomed in her cheeks, burning her ears and creeping down her neck as somewhere, in the back of the cafe, someone began to clap. And then everyone was clapping and Adrien was joining in because Marinette really was amazing, More amazing than he had previously thought. And when she turned towards him with a sheepish, awkward smile he didn’t hesitate to tell her so, pulling her into a too-tight embrace that she returned after a moment of hesitance. When they parted, he smiled and offered his arm and his heart leaped with joy as she immediately slid her arm through his. He chose not to analyze these new, fluttery feelings of his for now. Instead, he led her out of the cafe and turned them towards her apartment, feeling like the luckiest cat in the world to have such an incredible woman rooting for him with such passion. Marinette really was a great friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I hope you liked it, y'all! As usual with all my work: comment, comment, comment. Your feedback brings me great joy and I love hearing your thoughts. I will also be posting the theme of the next chapter and while some I may have a preconceived idea of where I want the story to take us, I am also open to story ideas and if I use your idea will give you a shoutout in the notes section!
> 
> Next up; "Can I pick, Princess?"


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